


Only In My Darkest Moments (Can I See The Light)

by angstfortheangstgod



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Exile, Exiled Tommyinnit, Ghostbur, Hurt/Comfort, ITS ANARCHY TIME, Set Pre-December 2nd, Toby Smith | Tubbo Misses TommyInnit, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Traitor TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Tommyinnit, angst for the angst god bitch, he's less of a villain and more just angry at the world, i know nothing except angst, l'manburg, no beta we die like wilbur soot at the final battle, philza minecraft is a good dad!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27865605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstfortheangstgod/pseuds/angstfortheangstgod
Summary: Facing the threat of exile, Tommy decides to leave before he can be forced out of his country.  With a heavy heart and twisted morals, Tommy goes back to his older brother to join his side of the war. Months later, Tubbo still has hope that his best friend will return to L'Manburg.  When random acts of destruction begin to plague their country, everybody is on the lookout for Technoblade, unaware that the pink-haired anarchist now has a partner in crime that just so happens to be the former vice president.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 154
Kudos: 1111
Collections: Sleepy Boi Inc





	1. Your City Gave Me Asthma (That's Why I'm Fucking Leaving)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "This December" by Ricky Montgomery
> 
> Please enjoy the angst festival, my dudes!!

Tommyinnit was a man of his morals. He did not abandon his causes or easily give up his beliefs. He had given up his discs in exchange for L’Manburg’s independence. He had fought in wars for his country. He betrayed his two older brothers to do what he believed was the right thing. He wasn’t the type of person to just give up on his country without a second thought. No, he was the type to defend what he loved until the end.

But  _ this _ ? This was a whole different story.

On the next day, the second of December, there was a meeting with Dream. More specifically, however, he was set to be exiled. Tommy wasn’t dumb; he knew that he wasn’t coming out of that meeting still being a citizen of L’Manburg. Of course, nobody dared to say that aloud, but he was well aware. It was an implied truth, and it was loud enough for everybody to hear. In mere hours, Tommy was going to be exiled from the country he helped build,  _ the country he gave up everything for,  _ for the second time _. _ The only thing different this time was that he was going to be exiled by his best friend.

Let it be said that Tommyinnit was not a coward. No, he was just proactive. That’s the reason he was standing at the edge of L’Manburg with his bags, ready to leave for good this time. He wasn’t afraid of being exiled or scared of his best friend𑁋  _ ex best friend? _ 𑁋 giving him a look of disappointment as he was forced out. He was just ahead of the game, and that’s why he was leaving. With one final look at the country Tommy had once cared so much about, and  _ still cared so much about, _ he turned around and left.

As Tommy walked through the cool night air, the long, brown coat he was wearing fluttered around him. The coat was one of the few things he had brought with him, and it made sense why: it was one of the few things he had left of his deceased older brother. It was familiar and warm, but he hadn’t even touched it since the final battle. It had been stuck in the back of his closet, where he left it for months. Now, as he walked away from his country, he revelled in the comfort it brought him. It smelled familiar, pungent with lavender soap, cigarette smoke, and the mildewy scent of the Pogtopia ravine. Wearing it felt like a warm hug from Wilbur when the man was alive and much more sane. But it had never felt right to wear it after Wilbur had died by Philza’s hand.

_ Until now. _

Tommy hiked up the bag on his shoulder a little more as he headed into the forest, gripping tighter onto the strap until his knuckles began to turn white. He had a clear destination in mind, coordinates that Phil had given him once the man had heard of his impending exile. Still, the very thought of where his journey would lead him made Tommy’s stomach do anxious flips. With every step, his heart pounded harder and his mouth became more and more dry. He knew he would have to calm down soon or else he would pass out before he made it ten minutes into his journey. He had to stay focused, or he would never make it through the hours-long walk into the mountains.

♤♡♢♧

Techno tossed and turned in his rickety wooden bed, unable to be taken by the kind touch of sleep. It was the early hours of the morning, as told by the light beginning to peek through the blinds and shining across the floors. No matter how hard he attempted to push it out of his head, Techno found himself unable to stop thinking about L’Manburg, or, more specifically, the citizens of L’Manburg.

No matter what he said or how hard he tried to separate himself from the idea, Techno considered himself to be Tommy’s older brother and he still cared about the boy. He was well aware that Tommy was going to get hurt again, and he knew exactly who was going to hurt him:

_ The government. _

The government was the root cause of every problem on the Dream SMP; they started every war and hurt everybody under them. It was the government that had made Tommy give up his discs, the government that had exiled Wilbur and Tommy, the government that had driven Wilbur insane, the government that had torn the Sleepy Bois apart. It was always the motherfucking government, and yet Tommy didn’t see that. Wilbur had begun to understand that in the end, though in his own twisted way.

All Techno really wanted was for his little brother to understand that he would never stop getting hurt until he took down the government. He wanted his little brother back; he didn’t want to fight him anymore over something that was injuring them both. He didn’t know if he could keep going if lost both of his brothers to tyrannical governments.

Without even noticing, Techno began to fall asleep to these thoughts, letting his own drifting mind take him away from the painful world of the waking. He wasn’t fully asleep, but his brain had started to blur at the edges and everything had begun to fall away. It was a welcome release from the painful world around him.

Techno was woken from his half-sleep, however, by a loud knock at the door. He groaned as he sat up in his bed. Part of him debated just ignoring the knock and acting like nobody was home, but nobody knew where he lived and he was deep in the mountains, which meant that he should probably check who was there. With a grunt, he got out from under his covers and grabbed the sword he kept beside his bed. He exited his room and began to descend down the staircase, approaching his front door with cautious, quiet footsteps. There was another frantic knock just as he made it to the door. He took a deep breath and jerkily opened the door, holding his sword out in a silent warning. He stopped, however, as he registered who was on the other side.

Tommy was staring up at him, wrapped up his Wilbur’s ratty old trench coat. He was red faced and teary eyed, and Techno could only stare at his little brother with two emotions filling him: confusion and rage.

_ Confusion  _ because how did Tommy find him? Why was he so far away from L’Manburg? How long had been walking to get this deep in the mountains? Why was he crying? Was he alone?

And  _ Rage  _ because why was his little brother crying? Who hurt him? Had he been driven away from his country? Why was he so desperate that he was willing to run to Techno for help?

Instead of voicing any of his concerns, Techno only murmured, “Hey, Theseus.”

“Techno,” Tommy sobbed out, voice broken, “you were right . . .”

Techno paused at the words, unsure of how he could possibly respond. Questions raced through his head as he listened to Tommy’s voice, which was raspy, as if the boy had been crying.

“You were  _ right.  _ The government is the problem.”

Techno shook himself out of his head. “We can talk about this later. For now, let’s get you warmed up.” He reached out a hand.

Tommy glanced down at the outstretched hand and then back at Techno, not saying anything for a few seconds. For a moment, Techno believed that the boy would refuse, but Tommy took his hand after a few moments and allowed himself to be brought into the warm house.

Techno led the boy by the hand through the foyer and the kitchen, placing his sword down on a hook on the wall along the way, and finally brought him into the living room. He sat Tommy down on the plush couch and let go of his hand, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around his little brother. Without a word shared between them, Techno kneeled in front of the fireplace and began a fire while Tommy just watched his movements intently.

A few minutes passed with only the sounds of logs being added, matches striking, and fire beginning to crackle. With the fire finally roaring and adding another layer of warmth to the room, Techno walked back to the couch and sat down beside his little brother. Neither of them spoke for a few moments.

“They’re supposed to exile me today,” Tommy finally admitted, voice quiet. “I destroyed George’s house and Dream got mad, so Tubbo is going to exile me.”

Techno allowed himself a second to think over the words. “Doesn’t your house get destroyed by people all the time without consequence?”

Tommy could only nod sadly, unable to bring himself to meet his older brother’s eyes. “They destroy my shit every other day, but I pull one prank and suddenly I deserve  _ exile. _ ”

Techno nodded along, a silent signal for the teen to continue.

“I don’t like these wars and I don’t want any part of these stupid fucking governments! I- I just want my discs back! But . . .” Tommy sniffled a bit, tears beginning to trail down his cheeks. “I gave Tubbo one of my discs, as a sign of trust, or whatever, and I think he’s going to give it to Dream.”

Techno growled a bit, startling Tommy and making him look at his older brother with wide eyes.

“It’s exactly like I said!” Techno stood and began to pace the length of the living room. “Every problem on this damned server is the fault of the government. You’re here,  _ crying _ , because of Dream and L’Manburg!”

“I know,” Tommy whispered, standing up from the couch. Techno paused as his little brother’s movements caught his attention. “That’s why I’m here, because I  _ know.  _ The government is fucking awful and they’re the ones who fuck everything up. I’m here because I know that you were right and I want to join your side of the war.” Tommy’s tears began to fall even harder, dripping down his face and falling onto the brown coat he was wrapped up in. “I don’t wanna fight for Pogtopia or L’Manburg or George’s Kingdom or for anyone except  _ myself _ and my beliefs.”

Techno pulled Tommy into a hug, holding the boy close to his chest. The younger quickly gave into the embrace, sobbing into his brother’s shoulder.

“We’re gonna take down L’Manburg and George’s stupid fucking kingdom,” Techno promised with a quiet, but deadly, voice. “And we’re gonna get your discs back.”

Tommy nodded into his shoulder, holding on even tighter.

“I’ll train you,” Techno added, pulling back from the embrace to look Tommy in the eyes, though he kept his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “And we’ll figure out a plan, okay?”   
“Okay,” Tommy whispered back.

For the first time since the day Techno arrived in Pogtopia as reinforcements, there was genuine hope shining in Tommy’s eyes. It was a brilliant sight that could’ve brought a weaker man to tears, but it filled Techno with determination. They were going to make things right, one way or another.

That night, as Techno got into bed after hours of planning and catching up, he made a silent promise to his little brother sleeping in the room next to him:  _ things were going to get better, he would make sure of it. _


	2. I Exist, I Exist, I Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo is . . . not coping.

_ Five and a Half Months Later _

“You need to take a break.”

Tubbo looked up to see Ranboo standing in the doorway to his office.

“Seriously,” Ranboo added, “you look like shit.”

Tubbo sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m  _ fine _ , Ranboo.”

“Yeah, sure.”

When Tubbo went back to working, Ranboo walked over to stand beside him and took the pen out of his hand. “At least take a little bit to come and get some lunch with me. You worked all last night without a break and probably haven’t eaten breakfast.” As if hearing the words, Tubbo’s stomach growled, confirming Ranboo’s words.

Tubbo rolled his eyes, but stood up from his desk anyways. When Ranboo smiled at Tubbo, obviously glad the president was actually going to step away from his work, Tubbo couldn’t help but smile back. Without another word, the two exited the white house, silently agreeing to go to Niki’s bakery to get lunch.

“So, how have you been?” Ranboo asked after a few minutes of them walking together. “We haven’t gotten to talk about much more than work lately.”

“I’m okay, I guess,” Tubbo muttered. “Busy.”

Ranboo nodded, keeping his gaze on the sidewalk in front of the two. “Are you . . . ya know . . . okay? I mean, you’ve been overworking yourself a lot since . . .” He trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the last part of his sentence in a gentle way.

The reminder sent a spike of hurt through Tubbo’s chest. He, unsurprisingly, didn’t exactly love to think about it. “I’m sure Tommy will be back soon! I mean, he loves L’Manburg, so surely he wouldn’t leave it for good.”

Ranboo stopped walking, which Tubbo didn’t notice until he was quite a few paces ahead. He turned around once he did realize, freezing as he saw the sad look on his friend’s face.

“Tubbo . . . I don’t think that Tommy is coming back.”

Tubbo couldn’t find it in himself to respond, just staring at the ground.

“I know he was your best friend,” Ranboo continued, voice as gentle as he could make it, “but he’s been gone for months now. If he wanted to come back, he probably would’ve by now.”

“No!” Tubbo shouted, looking up at his vice president as his voice echoed along the silent street. “He’s going to come back! I know he is!”

Ranboo sighed. “Oh, Tubbo . . .”

Before he could continue, Fundy suddenly came rushing around the corner, eyes wide and movements frantic. His panicked state grabbed the attention of the president and vice president, who immediately turned their attention to the fox hybrid.

“Uh . . . you guys are going to want to see this,” Fundy told them, motioning the way he had come from.

Fundy, with the confirmation that the two would follow, began to run back around the corner, Tubbo and Ranboo hot on his heels. They raced down the streets of their country, the two officials unsure of what to expect when they got to their final destination. Finally, they turned down a street and found themselves standing in front of the Camarvan. Or, what once  _ was _ the Camarvan. Now, however, it was more ashes than it was a van. It was quickly burning, almost completely gone, and Tubbo found himself entranced by the yellow and orange flames flickering up into the sky, a reflection of the smoldering in his eyes. He was pulled out of his trance by a hand being placed on his shoulder. A quick glance back confirmed that it was Fundy.

“Tubbo . . . are you okay?” the fox hybrid asked, and Tubbo could only nod absently, unable to tear his eyes away from the fire.

“Who would do this?” Ranboo asked. Tubbo glanced over to the vice president and found him just as mesmerized by the burning van. “We’ve been on good terms with George’s kingdom for months and there’s nobody in L’Manburg that would destroy the Camarvan, right?”

The three all considered those words carefully, thinking over the possible suspects that could’ve set fire to such an important building. The entire country felt eerily quiet in those moments, only the sound of crackling fire filling up the air. There was no point in putting it up now; the van was pretty much ashes and the fire was almost completely dead, having already taken most of its course.

“Someone contact Dream and George for a meeting,” Tubbo ordered, easily falling into his role as the leader of their country. “I’m going to go around and interview everybody in L’Manburg. We need to figure out who did this.” With that, the president turned around and began to walk towards one end of L’Manburg, likely to work his way from one side of the country to the other and talk to everybody. Ranboo sighed, heading back towards the white house. Meanwhile, Fundy was left standing there, just staring up at the dying fire.

♤♡♢♧

Hours later, Tubbo walked back into his office. He threw his jacket onto the coat hanger by the door and took a seat behind his desk. He set down the notebook he had been writing in while interviewing all of his citizens and opened it up, taking a look at the pages he had written on and reading through them.

_ Suspects for the Camarvan Van Fire _

_ Ranboo: He was working all morning; saw him come into the office around seven am; seemed shocked when Fundy showed us the fire; no motive. _

_ Fundy: A possible suspect, but has no motive; seemed panicked about the fire; claimed to have been cleaning his house all morning. _

_ Niki: She works in the bakery from five am until six pm and doesn’t leave unless gathering more ingredients; has several people to confirm that she was in the bakery all morning; no motive. _

_ Quackity: He was working on Mexican L’Manburg all morning and has several witnesses; no motive. _

_ Ghostbur: He was in his library all morning; doesn’t seem to have regained any memories that would make him want to destroy any parts of L’Manburg; no (clear) motive. _

_ Connor: He was building a house all morning in his new land; no motive. _

_ Karl Jacobs: He was in Rutabagville District all morning with witnesses; no motive. _

_ Eret: They were wandering around all morning and helping people with projects; despite being a former traitor, they have no motive now that they are a citizen. _

_ Jack Manifold: He was working on Manifold Land all morning with witnesses; no motive. _

_ Purpled: He was helping Jack with Manifold Land; despite being a mostly neutral party and not being officially aligned with L’Manburg, he has no motive. _

_ Captain Puffy: She was working in the flower shop all morning with witnesses; no motive. _

Tubbo tried to imagine anybody written on the page setting the Camarvan on fire, but it didn’t feel right in his mind. These people were his friends, so surely they wouldn’t dare to destroy something so meaningful to the country, right? He sighed and turned the page, picking up a pen and placing it on the page. He paused for a second, furrowing his eyebrows, before beginning to write again.

_ Non-L’Manburg Suspects for the Camarvan Fire _

_ King GeorgeNotFound: He isn’t the type to do things like this; he appears to want peace with L’Manburg; no motive to ruin the diplomatic relationship. _

_ Dream: This wouldn’t be out of character for him, but everything is peaceful and he likely wouldn’t do something so intense unprompted; he also respects George’s wish for peace with L’Manburg; no good motive. _

_ SapNap: He’s more into stealing and killing pets as opposed to burning down important buildings; he likely also wouldn’t start shit completely unprompted; he’s been quiet about𑁋 and hasn’t interacted with𑁋 L’Manburg since Tommy disappeared; no motive. _

_ Philza: He’s a possible suspect, but hasn’t been seen in a couple months; doesn’t seem to have a motive to destroy L’Manburg. _

_ Callahan: He doesn’t seem to care much about the wars; no motive. _

_ HBomb: He is a neutral faction and tends to stay friendly; no motive. _

_ Alyssa: She’s relatively nice, though she does go off the rails sometimes; she tends to stay out of L’Manburg’s affairs, however, so there’s no real reason for her to destroy Camarvan other than her own entertainment; possible motive. _

_ Punz: He claims to be on the side of justice, but often just does what he wants; he rarely ever destroys without targeting someone; possible motive. _

_ Ponk: He’s a doctor and tends to stay out of conflict; no motive. _

_ BadBoyHalo: No reason to destroy Camarvan and generally doesn’t get involved in conflict unprovoked; no motive. _

_ Antfrost: He has definitely been against L’Manburg in the past, but likely wouldn’t destroy Camarvan unprovoked; no motive. _

_ Awesamdude: He isn’t the type to destroy things as he generally stays neutral and is welcome in L’Manburg; no motive. _

_ Skeppy: He has been against L’Manburg in the past, but wouldn’t destroy the Camarvan unprovoked; no motive. _

_ Technoblade: He hasn’t been seen in months; hates governments, including L’Manburg; has a clear motive to destroy L’Manburg; obvious suspect. _

Tubbo stared at the page for a few moments, pen hovering over the paper as he considered adding somebody else to the page. His mind went back and forth as he debated. Finally, he made a decision.

_ Tommyinnit: He hasn’t been seen in months; possibly might come back to L’Manburg at some point, so it’s unlikely he would burn down Camarvan, as he had been attached to the original one; no motive. _

Tubbo closed the notebook shut as the door to his office slammed open. He looked up to see Dream storming into the room. After a second, George followed him in.

“We can’t just assume they did it!” George insisted, but went quiet as Dream held up a hand in a silent signal to stop.

“President Tubbo,” Dream greeted with an icy voice.

“Dream,” Tubbo greeted back curtly.

“This morning, the Community House was burned down.”

Tubbo paused. “Wait, really?”

Dream nodded in response, seemingly losing his patience.

“This morning, the Camarvan was burned down too! And we have no clue who did it.”

Dream froze for a moment and, under his mask, his face portrayed his shock. “So, it looks like someone hit us both.”

Tubbo nodded in agreement. “I’ve been trying to figure out who it was all morning. I assume whoever hit us also hit your country.”

George stepped around the masked man blocking him from Tubbo’s view and sat down at one of the chairs in front of Tubbo’s desk. Dream sighed and sat down in the other.

“What do you have so far?” George asked, leaning forward.

Tubbo opened up his notebook, flipping to the pages with all the suspects. “I’ve interviewed every citizen in L’Manburg; all of them have alibis and none of them have motives. For a moment, I wondered if it was you, Dream _ 𑁋 _ ” Dream sat up straighter, preparing to defend himself. “ _ 𑁋 _ but you don’t do these things unprovoked, especially during peace times. I thought maybe it was SapNap, but he hasn’t even acknowledged L’Manburg since . . .” Tubbo trailed off, going quiet for a few moments.

George gave Tubbo one of those looks, full of pity and understanding. Dream, on the other hand, looked away. Even without seeing his face, Tubbo could tell there was guilt written across it. The president shook himself out of it.

“Bad, Skeppy, Antfrost, and Awesamdude are all a part of the Badlands and they aren’t the types to do this stuff outside of war. Eret has no clear motive to attack L’Manburg considering he’s been living here since being stripped of his kingship.”

Dream’s stance portrayed even more guilt, while George looked uncomfortable.

“Callahan, Hbomb, and Alyssa are all neutral factions. Punz would be the type to do this, but he also hasn’t acknowledged L’Manburg in a while,” Tubbo continued. “Ponk is a doctor, and therefore neutral. That leaves Philza, Tommy, and Technoblade.”

All three of the leaders were quiet for a few moments, letting the words hang in the air.

“Nobody’s seen any of them in months,” Dream pointed out the obvious. Tubbo let out a deep breath and kept speaking.

“Tommy loved L’Manburg. If he were to come back, he probably wouldn’t do so by burning down one of our most important buildings. Philza doesn’t have a clear stance on L’Manburg, but there’s no reason for him to attack it now when he had the chance to do so when we were at our lowest point.”

George nodded along to the explanation. “So you think it was Technoblade?”

Tubbo sighed, closing the notebook and setting it back down on the oak wood desk. “I mean, who else could it be? Technoblade is the only one with a clear motivation against both of us. He hates the government and committing arson wouldn’t be out of character for him.”

Tubbo watched as George buried his face in his hands while Dream clenched his fists. Both seemed stressed, and the L’Manburg president couldn’t help but relate. Being a leader was . . . tiring, to say the least. And this was just another thing on their plates.

“Should we try to find him?” Dream pondered aloud, seemingly ready to get up and go hunt for Technoblade.

“You’re free to,” Tubbo replied with a shrug, “but we have no clue where to start. I think it’s in L’Manburg’s best interest to keep an eye out for both Philza and Technoblade, but focus on making sure this doesn’t happen again.”

George nodded and stood up, Dream following suit. “I think that’s probably in our best interest too. I might send Dream out with a party to look for Technoblade, and I’ll be sure to let you know if we see or find him.”

Tubbo hummed, nodding in acceptance. With that, George turned around and began to leave, Dream following after the king. They closed the door behind them, leaving Tubbo in a silent office, anxiety bubbling up in his gut. He looked to the side and caught a glimpse of the picture frame sitting on his desk. With shaky hands, he reached out and grabbed it, letting himself gaze at the picture of him and Tommy behind the glass.

The photo had been taken ages ago, long before Pogtopia or the L’Manburg Revolution or the election or anything having to do with war. It was just the two of them, sitting in a flower field with bees buzzing around them. They looked so carefree and innocent, unmarred by the horrors of war and the stress of leading a country.

“I wish you were here,” Tubbo whispered to the picture, fingers ghosting over the image of his friend. “You were always better at leading than I was.”

With a sigh, Tubbo set the picture back down and got back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p h i l z a m i n e c r a f t


	3. Things That Aren't Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> can you tell that i make impulsive decisions about how my stories go?

The days after the burning of the Camarvan had proven to be extremely stressful, adding onto Tubbo’s ever growing amount of stress. Everybody seemed on edge, desperately looking out for Technoblade and Philza. Tubbo had contacted George, only to hear that the search party had been a failure and there’d been no sightings of Technoblade within the borders of his kingdom. After a few days, things were beginning to calm down a bit. Though it felt a bit selfish, Tubbo couldn’t help but feel grateful that everything was a bit less tense.

Of course, nothing good lasts forever.

Tubbo had fallen asleep at his desk, as he was prone to do, and was sleeping surprisingly well for somebody hunched over on a chair with their cheek against oak wood. He was drawn from his sleep, however, as somebody barged into his office. That was a trend, he noticed bitterly, that had become extremely common lately. Looking up, Tubbo saw that it was Niki that had interrupted his rest, and anxiety was painted across her face.

“Tubbo, you have to come quick,” she begged, walking around his desk and grabbing his arm.   
“What’s going on?” the president asked with an urgent tone in his voice as he stood up. He took his arm from her grip and grabbed his jacket, beginning to pull it on.

“Someone set the Church Prime on fire!”

Without waiting for another word, Tubbo was out the door. Niki was hot on his heels as he ran through the streets of L’Manburg and towards the Holy Land, silently praying that this whole thing was a big prank. 

_ But who would prank him by saying the Church Prime was on fire so soon after the Camarvan fire? _

When he finally made it to the Holy Land, he saw Dream and George standing and staring in horror as the Church Prime burned in front of them. The wooden building was completely encompassed in flames and smoke was billowing up into the sky in large plumes.

“Dream! George!” Tubbo called out, running up to them. The two leaders turned to face the L’Manburg president. “What’s happening?”

“We don’t know!” George answered, sounding in distress. “We saw the smoke and came over, only to see the Church Prime completely in flames.”

“There was nobody around by the time we got here,” Dream added on.

Tubbo looked down, only to notice something strange. The grass beneath him was burned gray, even though it wasn’t on fire. He took a step back and noticed the fact that there seemed to be lines burned into the ground. He looked across it, finally putting together what it was.

“Well, I have an idea who did it,” Tubbo told Dream and George with a bitter hint to his voice.

Below them, burnt into the grass, was a large, uppercase ‘T’. On the stem of the ‘T’ was a crown, similar to the one Technoblade wore.

Dream and George looked down as they saw Tubbo do, noticing the large symbol burnt into the grass. They were all silent, staring at the symbol as the fire raged on in the background.

“Well, we assumed correctly who it was,” George muttered just loud enough for the others to hear him. “I guess this is just our confirmation.”

“So, what the fuck do we do?” Dream wondered aloud, less sure than Tubbo had ever heard him before.

George only sighed, letting his shoulders sag a bit. “I have no clue. Obviously, Technoblade has gotta be around here somewhere, but where is the real question. He didn’t leave a trace behind and it’s not like we have a trail to follow or a sign as to where he is.”

As if Technoblade heard those words, a large  _ ‘boom’  _ went off in the distance, extremely reminiscent of the sound of TNT being detonated. Looking in the direction of where the sun was rising over the Dream SMP Kingdom, the three men could see smoke plumes rising up.

“We should definitely go check on that,” George muttered in an anxious tone. Dream nodded along.

“I’ll come with you,” Niki offered from behind Tubbo. “That way I can report back to L’Manburg afterwards.”

Dream and George nodded in acceptance and took off, Niki in tow. That left Tubbo standing in front of Church Prime as the fire dwindled down, leaving ruin in its path. Staring at the ashes, Tubbo only felt bitter towards the anarchist behind all of the destruction. He knelt down and tore away some of the burnt grass, throwing it to the side. Of course, it did nothing to get rid of the symbol burnt into the ground, but it made him feel a bit better that he did so.

With a huff, Tubbo turned away, heading in the direction of the White House. He had no clue what he was going to do, and he honestly didn’t really want to know. There was no way to track Technoblade down and all he could hope to do was catch the anarchist in the street and capture him. The only other option at the moment was to focus on rebuilding.

As Tubbo continued to walk through the chill morning air, he suddenly smelled smoke again. The scent had long faded after he’d left behind Church Prime, but it had returned full force. He looked up and noticed smoke billowing up. With a renewed fear, he began to run towards the source of the smoke. His shoes hit against the ground in a rough manner as he ran, sending a jolt through him every time his feet touched the road, but maybe that was just the anxiety.

Tubbo rounded the corner to the L’Manburg Embassy, only to discover that it was also set ablaze, burning up quickly. The entire building, which Tommy had so painstakingly renovated after the reclamation of L’Manburg after the Manburg-Pogtopia War, was destroyed, being eaten by the brightly colored flames and turned into ash. It was only after a few moments of staring at the embassy from the other end of the street did Tubbo notice that there was someone else also looking at the burning building, though they were right in front of it.

Tubbo would recognize that brown trench coat anywhere, but he was taken aback by the lack of brown hair and beanie accompanying it. Instead, the person wearing the coat had strawberry blonde hair𑁋 that looked all too familiar to Tubbo𑁋 and a crown on their head, gold gleaming in the light of the fire.

The blonde hair and crown didn’t stop Tubbo from calling out a quick, “Wilbur?”

From all the way down the street, the person turned, and Tubbo was greeted by a face he hadn’t seen in over six months. Standing there, backlit by the raging fire, was Tommyinnit, wearing Wilbur’s trenchcoat and head adorned with a crown. He had a large smile across his face, but it wasn’t the smile that Tubbo was used to. No, this smile was more sinister, twisted and dark, showing the cracks at the edge of one’s mind.

“Tubbo!” Tommy exclaimed, and the L’Manburg president almost flinched at the other boy’s voice, which sounded so different from how he remembered it. “Such a pleasure to see you again!”

Against his better judgment, Tubbo walked down the street and towards his friend, who just stood there, watching him do so. Finally, he came to a stop only a few feet in front of Tommy, unable to make himself move closer. When Tubbo had imagined seeing his best friend again, this hadn’t been what he envisioned. He had pictured Tommy coming home with stories of adventures, and the two hugging immediately, apologizing for all that they had done wrong. In those dreams, Tommy was in his normal getup of jeans and a red and white shirt. He never looked crazed or sounded different in those dreams, and it made Tubbo wonder if this was all a bad nightmare.

“Tommy . . . where have you been?” Tubbo found himself asking.

“Ya know, here and there,” Tommy replied, obviously avoiding the question. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about things, learning new skills.”

Tubbo scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. “New skills?”

Tommy laughed a little bit, but it wasn’t the warm laugh that Tubbo had remembered. No, this laugh was more sinister, almost mocking, in a sense. Instead of being comforting, as Tommy’s laugh once was, it sent chills down Tubbo’s spine. It made him want to run away, to flee from whatever had replaced his best friend.

“As much as I’d love to stay and show you,” Tommy responded in an almost condescending tone, “I have places to be and things to do.”

The blonde-haired teen began to move past Tubbo, walking away from the burning embassy. He would’ve kept going if Tubbo hadn’t grabbed him by the wrist.

“But you just got back! Where are you going?!”

Tommy ripped his arm away from the president’s grasp, but didn’t turn around to face him. “None of your business.”

Tubbo, still in shock over seeing his best friend after six months, didn’t have the willpower to stop Tommy as he walked away. All he could do was watch as the fire raged on in the background, forgotten in the chaos. Nothing felt real, and that’s probably because it wasn’t.

Tubbo jolted away, straightening his back as he discovered that he had fallen asleep at his desk, notebook still open to the pages with suspects on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> philza minecraft!!
> 
> i try to reply to every comment just for fun so ill try my best to do that! hope u enjoyed!


	4. Runs In The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bois are back together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title inspired by "Runs In The Family" by Amanda Palmer

Tubbo attempted to catch his breath as his mind ran over the events of the nightmare, remembering every little detail. He knew it wasn’t real, that it was all just some twisted thing his subconscious had somehow made up and forced him to live through, but it all just felt so strangely real, like it had truly happened. A quick peek outside showed him the L’Manburg embassy, perfectly intact and not burnt down in the slightest. He let his shoulders sag a bit at that, glad that it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

But then he thought about it a little more.

Weren’t dreams supposed to reveal what your subconscious was thinking? Looking back on the dream, he knew that Tommy had definitely been the one to set the embassy on fire; it was pretty obvious, considering he was wearing a crown, dressed in Wilbur’s jacket, and didn’t seem concerned in the slightest by the raging fire. Did that mean that Tubbo’s subconscious thought that Tommy could’ve been the one to set the Camarvan on fire?

_ ‘I don’t think that!’  _ Tubbo’s mind shouted desperately, almost making the boy wince a bit.  _ ‘Why would I believe my best friend I haven’t seen in months would be the one to burn down a place he had helped build?!’ _

Tubbo groaned and buried his face into his hands, not wanting to think about the implications of his dream. He didn’t love delving into his subconscious and trying to figure out what was going on in his fucked up brain, thank you very much. Really, what teenage veteran that had gone through several wars would  _ want  _ to unpacking what was going on in their head? That sounded less like a good time and much more like a death sentence.

The president shook the thoughts out of his mind, looking back at his desk and thinking about what he needed to work on for the day. A quick glance at the clock on his desk confirmed that it was around eight am, meaning he had woken up just on time. He praised his internal clock for actually working with him for once instead of causing him to oversleep. He closed the suspect list in front of him and reached for a different document, picking up his pen from where it had been abandoned beside him.

At least the days had been quieter since the Camarvan fire. Well, they’ve been a lot quieter ever since Tommy disappeared, but the panic had been pretty bad after the arson. It wasn’t the fun type of chaos that Tubbo associated with Tommy, full of pranks and dumb jokes and way-too-loud laughter. No, this chaos was tiring and scary, forcing him to try and calm his country down while also pushing his own issues to the side. More often than not these past few days, Tubbo had been finding himself skipping meals and taking power naps, which he was already used to but it had been ramped up since everyone got anxious about who ever had started destroying their country.

After a few days of silence, Tubbo was starting to believe that maybe someone had set a fire on accident and didn’t want to fess up. If that was the case, he could definitely live with it. He would rather have no idea who did it and never have to deal with this kind of thing again, then have to cope with the idea that maybe someone was trying to hurt his country and that this was a planned attack. But with no signs of Technoblade around, and no repeat incidents, everything seemed fine for the moment.

♤♡♢♧

Around mid-day, Tubbo realized that he hadn’t had anything for breakfast and had only had a small, quick meal the night before. So, with a long suffering sigh and a slight groan of protest, he stood up from his desk and stretched his back, wincing a bit at the loud  _ ‘pop’  _ that accompanied it. 

Tubbo dragged himself out of the office, down the stairs, and through the front entrance of the white house. He squinted at the bright sun as he emerged onto the street. He took a few moments to just look around at L’Manburg. It felt . . . different than it used to. The streets were less alive, more dreary and dull despite the people milling about. It had felt bleak for months, and he knew why. So caught up in his thoughts, Tubbo almost didn’t notice as a familiar man in a green and white striped bucket hat walked by.

“Philza!” Tubbo called out, though not loud enough to alert the other people on the street. The blond-haired man turned around and met Tubbo’s eyes, an emotion on his face that the president couldn’t identify.

“Tubbo, how are you?” Philza asked, though his fidgety body language signaled that he wanted to get away from the conversation as soon as possible.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Tubbo replied half-heartedly. “I actually had a question for you.”

Philza hummed, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I don’t know if you heard, but there were a couple of arsons a few days ago, one in L’Manburg and one in the Dream SMP lands. There’s no one in either of the countries that seemed to commit the crimes and I’ve been discussing with King George about who could’ve done it. There’s been a lot of interviewing and questioning and stuff since we-” Tubbo cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Do you know where Technoblade is hiding out?”

Philza stiffened up immediately, and Tubbo was taken aback by the fire that seemed to light up in the man’s eyes, Phil had always been such a fatherly figure, stern but never mean. This contained, polite rage terrified Tubbo more than even Dream’s anger, because it was so held back and came from such a peaceful man. It looked like Philza could snap at any moment.

“No, I don’t. And even if did, it’s none of your business where he is.” Philza’s voice was tight, as if he was holding back. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do and places to be.”

That last phrase was so familiar to Tubbo, echoing Tommy’s words from his dream. It made a shiver go down his spine as the blond-haired man turned around to leave.

The uneasy feeling didn’t stop Tubbo from asking, “Where are you going?”

Philza paused, but didn’t turn to face Tubbo. “I’m going to get Wilbur.”

Without any more elaboration, Philza continued walking, leaving Tubbo on the sidewalk. The L’Manburg president just stood there, watching the man leave to go find his last son that was allowed in their lands. A wave of guilt washed over Tubbo and he could only feebly attempt to push the feeling away.

♤♡♢♧

Techno walked into the temporary shelter he had built in the woods outside of L’Manburg only to find Tommy leaning over the small wooden table, murmuring something to himself. The teen stopped, however, as he heard the rustling that arose from Techno’s entrance. He turned around to see his older brother standing by the tent door and holding up some meat he had just hunted.

“What are you up to?” Techno asked as he walked further into the shelter, kneeling down beside a chest and putting the food in.

Tommy sighed as he tore his eyes away from his older brother and looked back down at the table, gazing over the map of the entire SMP land that was laid on the wood. “I’m just thinking about our next move.”

Techno stood from his place by the chest and moved the short distance to Tommy. He gently grabbed the teen’s hand, pulling him up from his spot on the floor and forcing the blond to look away from the map. Techno delivered a small kick to the side of the table, making the map roll up, and tugged Tommy over to one of the cots lining the tent walls. Tommy, getting the hint, sat down, though his gaze was back on the rolled-up map as Techno sat beside him.

“You’re not thinking about our next move,” Techno accused, though his voice had no anger or frustration behind it. “You’re just stressing yourself out.”

Tommy sighed, allowing his eyes to fall shut and resting his head on the shoulder of his older brother, who wrapped an arm around him in return. “I just want to make sure I don’t fuck anything up.”

Now it was Techno’s turn to sigh. “You’re not going to fuck it up. You just think that because that’s what you’ve been made to think by everyone that’s hurt you.” The words seemed to echo around the tent, ringing true in both of their ears. The brothers knew that Techno was right, so they went quiet.

“Yeah . . .” Tommy eventually muttered, “I know.:

Techno opened his mouth to add something more, but was interrupted by the entrance to the tent opening. The two brothers were immediately on guard, jumping up from their places on the cot and unsheathing their swords. The comfortable, familial atmosphere that was there only seconds earlier disappeared as Techno and Tommy prepared to defend themselves. The two lowered their weapons, however, as Philza entered the tent, closely followed by Wilbur.

“Dad!” Tommy exclaimed, dropping his sword and running forward to embrace the man. “I didn’t know you were joining us!”

“Techno contacted me to let me know you were okay after you left,” Philza explained as he wrapped his arms around his youngest son. “When you guys decided to come back, he let me know where you’d be setting up camp.”

“And I wasn’t about to let everybody get together without me!” Wilbur added on, causing Tommy to pull back from Philza and move to embrace his middle brother, who turned corporeal so they could hug. Tommy shivered a bit as he touched Wilbur, but that didn’t stop him from holding the ghost close to him.

“Sleepy Bois Incorporated is back together!” Tommy declared as he pulled back from the hug. His dad and two brothers all smiled at him, voicing their agreements to the sentiment.

“So,” Philza spoke up with a much more serious tone, “what’s our plan?”

Techno knelt down by the wooden table in the center of the tent, motioning for the other three to join him. Once they were gathered around, the pink-haired man unrolled the paper on the table, revealing to Philza and Wilbur the map of the countries within SMP, including all the buildings in them. There were two red ‘x’s on the map, one over the Camarvan and one over the Community House.

“We’re planning our next strike,” Tommy explained before pointing a finger at one of the ‘x’s and then at the other. “We already burnt down the Camarvan and the Community House.”

“Next, we plan to hit George’s rebuilt vacation home and the Church Prime,” Techno told them, taking over the explanation. “Our final hit before we reveal ourselves will be blowing up George’s castle, the L’Manburg Embassy, and the meeting building that Tubbo built to house Tommy’s exile hearing before he, ya know, ran away . . .”

There were a few moments of silence as the words hung heavy in the room, not seeming to disappear despite the silence. Finally, Wilbur nodded.

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“When are we doing this?” Philza asked, looking up at his youngest and oldest sons.

Tommy gave a small smirk, looking some strange mix of excited and smug. “We hit tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> philza minecraft
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed! sorry i missed uploading for a couple days, but i hope this chapter makes up for it


	5. Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo can't sleep, George needs to reflect, and some buildings are destroyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha wow so those streams recently, huh? yeah im just gonna completely ignore canon lmao :,) sbi lives on, if only in my anarchy fics

_ Fuck, he was tired. _

Tubbo couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t unusual for him. It seemed that ever since Tommy had been exiled-- ever since  _ he  _ exiled Tommy-- sleep stopped coming easy to him. Perhaps it was because he was so unused to sleeping in solitude. It was the same as when Tommy had been exiled from Manburg and Tubbo had been left there; he’d had so much trouble sleeping alone without Tommy around to comfort him with his soft snores from the other side of the room. It seemed as if they had always shared a room since they first became close, even if they had separate houses, and it was unfamiliar to both of them to fall into unconsciousness without each other.

After the Festival, and the subsequent execution by Technoblade’s hand, Tubbo had found himself in Pogtopia and therefore sleeping in the same room as Tommy. Even though it had been terrifying knowing that Techno was nearby, despite the primal fear he felt as he began to process the trauma of being killed in front of a crowd, Tubbo slept better in Pogtopia than he had in ages, if only because Tommy was there.

_ Fuck, he missed Tommy. _

The echoes of his dream from the other night remained in his mind, refusing to leave. He begged for the distorted reality to leave his mind, pleaded for the memory of the false events to leave his head. But it seemed as though no matter how hard he tried, despite how he tried to scrape the dreams from the walls of his brain, he just couldn’t scrub it away. It stuck to the edges of his head like ashes he couldn’t get rid of, but the fire wouldn’t stop. How the fuck was he supposed to get rid of the ashes when the fire was still burning?

_ Fuck, he regret so much. _

Tubbo should go to sleep, he knew that, but he was too scared of another nightmare featuring Tommy. He couldn’t sleep when every time he closed his eyes he saw his best friend that had been missing for months. He couldn’t help but wonder what he would say if Tommy was with him, and apologies came to the front of his mind. Apologies for even considering, let alone deciding on, exiling him. Apologies for letting Dream push him around. Apologies for calling him selfish. Apologies for calling him selfish. Tubbo just wished he could see Tommy, just wished he could voice all of his regrets and (hopefully) gain forgiveness. But he had lost that chance now.

_ Fuck, what was he doing here? _

Usually, when Tubbo couldn’t sleep, he would simply spend his time working on presidential paperwork, seeing as his duties to L’manburg never seemed to stop. But, this time, he just couldn’t find it within himself to do his work. It seemed that every time he sat down to look at some letter or request or whatever may be on his desk, the words seemed to blur together and he got much too distracted to even attempt to get anything done.

So, instead of sitting at his desk and zoning out, Tubbo decided to come out to the roof of the White House. He had no clue what time it was, but as he emerged out into the cool breeze, he realized it was nearing sunrise, if only because he could see the light beginning to peak over the horizon, though it was quite dim and not nearly bright enough to wake anyone up. Tubbo approached the railing and leant against it, simply staring off into the horizon. He was deep in thought, but it was like there was nothing going on his head. He was just completely zoned out, staring into the very slowly rising sun.

Tubbo heard it before he saw it, a sudden booming noise off in the distance. The sound of TNT detonating made Tubbo freeze; it sounded like a single blast before all of L’manburg blew up during the revolution, sounded too much like fireworks going off before his vision went black, sounded so similar to a sudden detonation not long after he was given the mantle of president. Explosions were never a pleasant sound, all followed by pain and heartbreak and absolutely nothing good.

Tubbo was only broken out of his frozen trance, his trauma-induced state, by the sight of the explosion. Ashes flew into the air and fire could be seen in the direction of the Holy Land, flaring up into the sky of the rising sun. The red and orange of the flames lightly blended into the pink hue of the horizon. It was almost beautiful, in some sick way.

It took him a few seconds to truly register what was happening, to understand that something was really,  _ really  _ wrong. It only took him a moment after that to pull out an enderpearl and throw it in the direction of the flames, grimacing as he felt himself teleported to the Holy Land. He landed hard on the ground with a grimace, brushing dirt off of his suit as he stood. He looked up and was met by the sight of Church Prime in flames, all too eerily similar to the dream-- the  _ nightmare?--  _ that had been haunting his memories the past few days. This time, however, he was all alone, facing the carnage of a building so important to the server. His heart sank in the same way it had in his dream. It felt like all too much, staring up at the fire as it raged on, seemingly unstoppable, though he was too frozen to even attempt to stop it.

Remembering the part of his dream where he looked down and saw a symbol burnt into the grass, Tubbo cautiously moved his gaze downwards, stepped back as he noticed gray grass beneath his feet. He stumbled back, startled by the fact that certain aspects of his dream were reflecting themselves into real life, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually asleep at that very moment.

But, no, he was very much awake, and on the ground in front of him was a snowflake, with an  _ ‘A’  _ that had a circle around it in the center.

_ “That’s the anarchy symbol,”  _ Tubbo’s brain supplied helpfully.

With a frustrated growl, Tubbo ripped up some of the burnt grass and harshly threw it to the side, cursing Technoblade with every molecule of his being. Now that his suspicions about who had been committing acts of terrorism on the SMP was confirmed, all he felt was rage.

Tubbo’s sleeplessness was long forgotten as he stared up at Church Prime’s burning remains.

♤♡♢♧

There was this heavy sense of guilt that always seemed to weigh on George, holding onto his soul and refusing to let go. It was especially pronounced at certain times, however, seeming to become an even stronger force making him drown within his own brain, suffocating him until he was on the verge of losing himself completely.

He felt it whenever he saw Eret. George knew he had taken Eret’s role as the king on the server, but they never seemed to hate him for it. In fact, she had taken the news better than anybody expected, despite the fact that she had betrayed L’manburg for the title. Now, George had taken that from her, and she never even held it against him. It felt . . . wrong, to say the least.

George felt the guilt whenever he saw Tubbo. He watched as the teen overworked himself, staying up late into the night to work on paperwork and walking around his country looking like a shell of himself. The boy was never the same without Tommy around, and the young president’s exhaustion was so heavy that it made George’s heart clench whenever he saw Tubbo’s eyebags or half-hearted smiles as he reassured everyone he was fine.

George felt the guilt whenever he thought about his little vacation home, a mushroom house he had been busy building while his friends lost their lives in a war he knew nothing about. He had heard secondhand stories of Wilbur blowing up L’manburg and techno releasing withers to wreak havoc upon the country, but the accounts would never live up to the trauma of fighting through it firsthand. When he saw how his friends flinched at explosions, or when he watched them become wary of even the mention of another war, the guilt consumed him, reminding him that he had been so focused on himself that he hadn’t been there for his friends.

George didn’t even care about his mushroom house that much! It was just a silly little project he had been working on to pass the time, giving him something fun to do. When Tommy burned it down, leaving all of his things in chests on the lawn, he hadn’t truly felt upset about the development. He knew Tommy was a kid raised fighting wars, never given a true childhood and left to become a veteran at age sixteen, so it was no surprise the teen was upset with him for not being there for the final war. Tommy wanted to have someone to blame, he wanted an outlet to release his trauma onto, and he chose George’s house.

The repairs hadn’t taken more than a couple of hours, being easy enough to fix with very little supplies needed. He put the damn thing back together, moved his chests back inside, and that was the end of it. There was no need for conflict over the ordeal; sure, it probably would’ve been good to sit down with Tommy and ask him to  _ pretty please get some help processing your trauma so you don’t cause too much property damage,  _ but there was no need to go beyond that.

Of course, Dream had decided otherwise and Tommy would’ve been exiled within hours if the boy hadn’t suddenly disappeared out of nowhere. With him, Tommy took all of the joy that seemed to exist within L’manburg and the Dream SMP Faction, taking his high energy excitement when he left. It felt so empty without him, even if George had never even known him that well. The boy was the type to make any situation feel positive, any moment feel happy, any day feel fun, even if he annoyed you in the process; that’s just how Tommy was, and that disappeared along with him.

And now, George felt no joy, only guilt.

Staring up at his vacation home, burning for the second time, George felt no anger. There was no frustration as the flames consumed the home and turned all of his work to ash. He felt no resentment as he watched smoke billow up into the sky. If anything, there was a spark of joy within his chest; the damned house that had only given him and his friends trouble was finally gone, disappearing along with all the negative energies that he associated it with. The fire ate away at the wood and he didn’t even feel mad at himself as the only thought on his mind were the words,  _ ‘good riddance,’  _ echoing over and over as if it couldn’t be repeated enough.

George didn’t know who had set the fire, or if it had been an accident. To be honest, he didn’t really want to know. Perhaps he would’ve lit the mushroom house on fire himself if he weren’t too guilty to visit it in the months after Tommy had disappeared. Part of him felt bitter that he hadn’t been the one that had gotten to set the thing on fire, that he hadn’t been able to strike the match that sent the wood up into flames, but he pushed that thought out of his head.

With a small smile etched onto his face, George turned and walked away from his former vacation home, never noticing the symbol burnt into the ground not too far away.


End file.
